Plots/Ideas/Other Stuff

AlbaGuBrath

AlbaGuBrath

"Scotland Forever"
(Okay, so this is where I'm going to store plots and ideas, maybe character sheets, other random stuff, etc. You can look through it if you want, and I welcome any comments you may have!)





  • A survival-based egg hatching roleplay. We can either have it to where I control Lao and the eggs, and your character(s) try to hatch them, or I can write for him and one of the eggs (probably the second),and then others can choose a egg to control and for others to hatch. This may get a bit confusing, but it was suggested to me as an alternative, so I'm willing to give it a shot. Once the eggs hatch, the creatures and the human(oid) characters will then go about trying to survive on the island, figure out a way off, and to discover more about what has brought them there. Laochan may become a friend or enemy to the characters, or may remain neutral.


    What is Egg-Hatching Anyway?



    Okay, so I haven't really seen these around here, so I don't know if they're a thing or not. But here goes an attempt at explanation.


    In an egg hatching roleplay, a group of magical eggs are hidden somewhere in the world. Usually, they're all grouped together in a cave/castle/glade, but they can be anywhere the plot writer chooses. Then, each adventurer comes to the eggs. Sometimes it is destiny that draws them to the location, sometimes they're simply lost, sometimes they look for them intentionally... It's all up to the roleplayer. Once the eggs are found, the characters interact with the eggs, the Keeper (if there is one, usually a guardian or protector of the eggs, sometimes accompanies the group on the quest and often has a partner of their own), and other adventurers as the eggs speak to the characters, probe their memories, read their thoughts/emotions, or however else the controller chooses. Each egg is different in appearance and contains a different creature inside. Any kind of creature can be contained in the egg. They often hold creatures like dragons and unicorns, but they can hold lions and tigers, birds and lizards, even extra terrestrials! Every egg has its own personality, view on life, likes/dislikes, and traits. Only the controller knows these traits, and they keep these in mind when roleplaying the egg (and, later, the creature) and use this knowledge to pick the partner that best suits the creature. This might not be the first adventurer that interacts with the egg, and might even be one interacting with another egg or character, but the egg eventually chooses a partner. When this happens, it hatches (sometimes spontaneously, sometimes from an order from the adventurer, sometimes physically by being smashed against rocks, however the roleplayer chooses) into a creature who will be the adventurer's partner until the end of the roleplay.


    Egg? Controller? Keeper? What do all these terms mean?!


    Well, like most roleplays, egg hatching has its own group of terms describing different elements of the roleplay, but they're pretty self-explanatory and aren't hard to learn.


    Controller- The user who roleplays the eggs and the creatures they hatch into, usually the GM and/or a partner. They may also roleplay an adventurer if they so choose, but they may not choose from any of their own eggs. They often only roleplay two to three eggs at the most, as more than this can become very overwhelming.


    Creature- refers to the creature inside the egg. Can be anything the author chooses, but it has its own mind and will, and is always controlled by the controller. They often, but don't always, have a telepathic connection (varies in strength and abilities) with their partner and/or the other creatures.


    Egg- The egg is one of the most important elements in one of these roleplays. Without the egg, and the creature inside it, these roleplays would be no different from the usual 'people on a quest' ones you see on the boards. The appearance of the egg varies tremendously from the others and from story to story. They can be any size, any color, any texture, and have any properties the author chooses. Be creative! Often, the egg's appearance offers a clue to the type of creature inside, but this isn't always the case. Eggs can communicate in a variety of ways, the most common being telepathy and verbal communication, but new ideas are always welcome.


    Keeper/Guardian- A character, often roleplayed by the author of the plot or one of the controllers, who protects the eggs from those who would do them harm or who do not belong in the cave/castle/whatnot. Sometimes they accompany the adventurers on their quest, sometimes not. They're often very attached to the eggs, and may have a partner of their own.


    Setting



    The late 18th century, an unknown, hopefully uninhabited island somewhere out in the ocean. Storm clouds are receding, leaving their destruction behind in the form of debris scattered on the beach, broken trees, and drenched strangers. The remains of a ship are pinned against the rocks, but to reach it, the steep and slippery cliffs must be scaled, and there is no promise that anything is salvageable. There is a large cave nearby, maybe this is shelter? A stone blocks most of the entrance, but a person can still squeeze through, though maybe with some difficulty.


    Inside the cave is a huge room with natural alcoves lining the walls. Many of them are empty, but there are three that have strange objects inside them. A little boy sits cross legged in the center of the cave, his eyes closed. He is dressed in faded plaids and holds a little knife at his side. His eyes are light brown and he has longish red-brown hair plastered against his face. He appears to be soaking wet.


    Plot



    The characters have all appeared on this island, confused and disoriented. They all come from different places, maybe even different times, and none of them know each other. But one thing is certain, this is not where they were last they can remember. Nobody knows how or why they were brought here, but such questions must wait until the group can find shelter, because the effects of the storm are apparent, and they don't want to be around when it returns. To their knowledge, nobody knows that they are there, so rescue is doubtful. They will have to do their best to survive until they can return home.


    It is unknown how the strangers are brought to the island, especially considering that some are pulled from times far past and yet to come, but after the eggs have hatched, a way is provided for them to return home. However, whatever it is that brings them there apparently doesn't have a good sense of time, leaving the individuals to remain on the island for anywhere from a few weeks to a year or more.


    IC Intro



    The boy sat in the center of the cave, listening to the storm as it raged overhead. The winds howled and the trees moaned, but Laochan wasn't frightened. He enjoyed the storms and was tempted to lift his voice and sing along with the frightful wailing, but he felt that this was no ordinary storm. If this one was anything like the last blow that wracked the island, there would be a few strangers arriving on the sands. He opened his eyelids just enough to peek out at the alcoves holding their strange objects. Only three. Yes, surely they would all be taken, and he could rest. Once the storm ceased and they awoke… Then they would come.


    A new sound startled him from his thoughts and he opened his eyes to see a shape block the the light streaming in from under the rock blocking the entrance. He tilted his head to one side and listened carefully. The wind had stopped and the birds were beginning to sing again. It is time. he thought to himself.


    He stood and planted his bare feet in the sand and crossed his arms before his chest. He waited until everyone has entered, then spoke for the first time, though his twisted mouth did not appear to form the words the strangers could hear, as though he was saying something else. His voice sounded as though it should come from someone a few decades older, and it carried a bitter edge strange for one his age. "You are here for a reason, strangers." He said bluntly, staring hard at the newcomer "Why?" His little mouth twisted wryly and he tilted his head forward, maintaining eye contact the whole time. "Wouldn't you like to know?" He threw his head back and cackled for a moment, then reassumed his grave demeanor and looked back at the strangers. "You are here because I am. That doesn't make sense, I didn't mean for it to. But you are stuck here. Maybe help will come, maybe it won't. But the only way you're going to make it that long is if you get help. One of these…" He paused and spread his arms to the sides, indicating the strange objects "One of these belongs to each one of you. They will be your help. Go. Speak to them. If they like you, they will help you. If they don't…" He grinned darkly and assumed an innocent appearance "I don't know what will happen. Have fun…" With that, he sat back down and closed his eyes as though the strangers never even existed.


    Characters



    Laochan - Laochan appears as a young boy, about seven years old, sitting lonely inside the cave. However, he is several decades older than he appears, as evidenced by his hard voice, embittered by his ordeal.


    Before his experience, Laochan was a normal, happy little boy living with his mother and father. They had a little home and farm tucked in the mountains, far away from the roiling and turbulent times that swept across the lands.


    However, they could not stay isolated forever, and one day they heard news of laws forbidding their way of life. The boy's father was furious, and swore then and there that he would not yield to such a law. The authorities came once, twice, even thrice, and gave him a fine, which he paid stoically. However, when they came a fourth time, it was with a warrant ordering him to be deported.


    The man accepted the order dispassionately, refusing to demean himself with a futile rage against society, but he didn't know that his "little hero" was less aware of the situation. The boy was terrified and angry, and he broke away from his mother's arms to charge the men with a little knife. He injured one that was surprised by his sudden assault, but the other kept his head and immediately gave chase.


    This was not what the boy expected. He stood and faced the man for a brief instant, but instinct overcame his fantasies of heroism, and he took to his heels. He ran for a long time, accustomed to running due to numerous foot-races with the other boys, and darted through the familiar countryside to throw off his pursuer, but he could not elude him for long. Finally, completely exhausted, the boy sought shelter on a narrow ledge just under the lip of a steep slope.


    He clung tightly to the rocks, staring into the sky, expecting every flitting shadow to become the man, but though he came near, he was never found. Relief rushed through the boy's mind and he began to scramble back onto firm land, but as he did, he lost his grip.


    He hovered between standing and falling for a brief moment, windmilling his arms for balance, but it was a losing battle, and he plummeted into the cold loch below. As he struggled to stay afloat, the desperate boy sent out a mental prayer, a plea to anyone, anything, that could help him.


    I want to live, don't let me die. Help me!


    However, the wrong ears heard his pleas. A fairy was nearby, casually observing the happenings. It remembered this boy. Seven years ago, a fairy had appeared at this child's birth. As his mother slept, it slipped into their home and began to take the soundly sleeping child away. But, just before it made it away with him, the boy awoke and began to shriek. His father awoke and dove toward them with a steel blade, reclaiming his child and seriously harming the thief in the process.


    The creature's thirst for revenge caused it to hatch an awful plan. It would make the child pay, forget the consequences. As soon as the last bubble of air burst above the surface, the creature snatched the boy from the water. It placed a curse upon the unfortunate lad, condemning him and the spirits of many creatures to remain trapped inside a distant cell until the curse could be broken. It could be broken, of course, all spells can, but the cruel fairy was sure that this was one that would remain in place.


    Laochan resides in a cave on an unknown island, trapped inside with many creatures, not physically aging with the decades that have past. Most of the creatures have been hatched, but the remaining three can only be released when their destined partner comes to free them. When they are released, Laochan will be as well.


    Egg 1 - In the first alcove, there is a tiny, glowing sphere. It appears to float above the stone and emits a light that cycles through various colors, though it is usually white. It hovers up and down, and sometimes darts around the alcove, though it can't leave it. It evokes different emotions in different individuals, but it normally makes them feel full of peace and hope. Sometimes, however, it causes feelings of fear and loneliness, and often a sense of betrayal.


    Egg 2 - In the second, there is a large egg covered in blue scales and a dark ridge on the back, and soft tawny fur speckled with dark spots on the forward side. A muted sound emits from inside, though it is hard to hear. It is best described as the sound of many baying dogs.


    Egg 3 - The third alcove contains a medium sized egg covered in a brownish grey hide. It is wet to the touch and is very cold. It smells of salt and fish. A faint voice can be heard floating from inside, it is hard to tell if it is wailing or singing. Which voice is heard is believed to have something to do with the person's impressions of the egg and state of mind, though gender may also have something to do with it.





 
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(Storage for my Skyrim character/s)


Saorat ~ Female ~ Khajiit
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Art by chives at Neo
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Faction: Stormcloak


Appearance: Medium height, gold-brown fur with black and white markings, yellow eyes, scars across nose from a skirmish when she was younger


Strengths: Loyalty, adaptability, quick learner, strong sense of honor


Weaknesses: Timid, stubborn, little education, has a knack for finding trouble


Personality: Growing up in Skyrim, she shares some of the beliefs of her neighbors, but differs in other respects. She holds honor and courage in high regard, but does not consider sneak attacks, ambushes, or guerilla warfare to be dishonorable, though agrees that harming civilians is. She has no qualms about running from a fight if the need arises, but remains defiant until that point.


While she has little love for the Imperials, she does not hate them or have any wish to destroy them, only drive them out. For this reason, she will usually accept surrender, though she has been known to lose her temper, which bothers her greatly.


She does not follow Talos herself, but respects him as any other. She is distrustful, but loyal, and could be described as paranoid or anxious.She has a hot temper, especially about touchy subjects, that she fights hard to keep under control. Most of the time it only manifests itself in a furious glare and clipped words, but it has broken out into a fight in the past.


Her education is very limited, mostly just basic math and survival skills, and can neither read nor write. However, she is insatiably curious and a quick learner and is always eager to add to her skillset. Because of her background, she is extremely frugal and good at making the most of whatever resources she has available. Even if she does happen to come into a bit of coin, she is loath to waste it, though she is generous in giving to others.


(Exactly how I play her depends on the current time-line. When she first arrives back in Skyrim and joins the Stormcloaks, she is much more touchy, hot-tempered, and embittered/suspicious toward others. She wants to be unattached and independent, and keeps most people at arm's-length.


After she begins to find a family and a cause to fight for, she begins to grow and mellows out somewhat, is less hyper-sensitive, and is slightly more confident. However, she also begins to feel guilt for some of the things she did in youth, for mistakes she has made since, and for the lives she has participated in ending.


Naturally, I write a bit differently for her after the war is over depending on which side wins, but in both cases she is proud of her part, continues to travel and explore, and wants to help other people who are suffering.)


Background: Saorat grew up in Riften to former traders who decided to settle down. Crime was a problem, of course, but the child didn't know any better and considered the place a paradise full of exciting places to explore with her best friend, Dubha. Living in Riften, however, and being Khajiit, the two were quickly being contacted by the Thieves' Guild. Saorat was a natural, but quickly developed a distaste for the shady lifestyle and for the suspicious glares she got whenever walking into a store. When she was old enough, she moved to Whiterun in hopes of getting a fresh start, but was met with the same response. Disgusted, she decided to leave Skyrim and return to her ancestral home and seek out her own people.


Once there, however, she found that she missed the mountains and snow, the proud people, and the rich songs of Skyrim. While Elsewyr was filled with people like her, she felt strange and out-of-place, and longed for the place she considered home. She worked to save up enough to return until finally, weary from travel and life, she saw the familiar landscape stretch before her. In her excitement, however, she didn't pay attention to where she was going and found herself caught in between a battle between the Imperials and Stormcloaks, and was taken prisoner.


Later that day, the escaped comrades of the captured soldiers returned with reinforcements and were able to free them, including the bewildered Khajiit, who followed them to safety. She was surprised to find that, contrary to her embittered imagination, they didn't immediately condemn her as a criminal, and was even welcomed by an old friend. She stayed for a short while before turning towards Riften again, but discovered that she had little wish to return to the crime and filth of the city, and asked to join her friend.


Because she had little motivation to fight and no experience with war, however, she grew sick after the first battle and wished to leave. But, her friend reminded her of her oath and duty to uphold it, and though she vehemently spat that didn't need Nord honor, inside she knew they were right. She remained in the army, but still felt unhappy and hollow. She listened to the other soldiers speak of generations-old farms, spouses and children back home, their love for their land and their homes, and found herself wishing that she had something like that to fight for. After a time, however, she began to realize that she did. Though she wouldn't have imagined it before, she felt a comradeship with the others and fought for them in the same way they fought for families back home. She still shrinks from killing and hates to see the death of friend or foe, but is determined to protect her friends and the values they cherish.


Beliefs: Saorat's original motivations for joining were mostly a desire to prove herself to be more than a trader or criminal, and nearly deserted after her naivete was shattered by reality, but eventually she came to truly believe in the cause. Though she is extremely distrustful and somewhat frightened of the Imperial soldiers, she harbors no hatred for them as a whole, though she may hold a grudge against particular individuals. Her wish is to end the fighting and to protect herself and her comrades until it does, and will usually accept surrender or spare the helpless if possible.


She neither loves nor hates Talos, but holds him in a sort of detached respect and is sympathetic to those affected by his banning. Though she has never admitted it to anyone for fear of ridicule or being declared a traitor to her kind, she is troubled by the thought of dying away from the people she has grown to cherish, and secretly hopes that the Nord deities would be willing to accept an outsider into the afterlife.


As one who has often been the target of prejudice, Saorat strongly disagrees with the sentiment expressed by some that only the Nords should remain in Skyrim and sympathizes with other races that have been targeted. It is her belief that all people should be welcome in the province, though she is uncomfortable with the political presence of the High Elves and believes that they ought not to be meddling in the affairs of a land beyond their own.


Saorat holds a deep respect for Ulfric Stormcloak, though mixed with a good measure of fear, and regards him as a good leader. However, she dislikes his treatment of outsiders, fears his temper to be potentially dangerous, and is uncomfortable with the manner of his taking power. Because of the respect he has earned from the Nords and his willingness to take a stand against the Empire and the elves, she considers him to be a strong and competent leader. Although she is not entirely certain if his actions were solely from a desire to protect Skyrim or if personal ambition played a part as well, she hopes that he will prove to be a good king. 


Other: Saorat fights almost exclusively with a bow, and is deadly accurate. She prefers to find a good place she can shoot down from or around, and manage to reach another location before her opponent reaches her, though she wastes little time with this if the situation arises. Her speed and agility serve her well in this capacity, as she is generally able to escape serious injury in one-on-one combat. She is not very physically strong, though, and wears light armor, so if it does come to hand-to-hand fighting, she usually has to flee until she can recover.


In a pinch, she has a handful of novice spells at her disposal, but is completely untrained with any sort of blade. In her hands, a sword just flails wildly and a shield is only a burden. If trapped with no bow or magic, she'd be better off just to fight with fists and claws.


She abhors anything smacking of dark magic, from soul trapping to necromancy, and refuses to have anything to do with it, those who use it, or Daedra. She is terrified of water.



Dubha ~ Female ~ Khajiit

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Faction: Unaligned


Appearance: Black fur with barely discernible dark brown markings, green eyes, slight build


Strengths: Quick-witted, outgoing, cunning, persuasive


Weaknesses: Ruthless, holds a grudge, flighty, lonely


Background: Dubha grew up as an orphan in Riften, but ran away to the Ratway to escape Grelod and talked one of the inhabitants into pretending to adopt her. The caretaker despised her more than any of the other children, and so was happy to see her go. When Grelod was finally killed, none was more pleased than Dubha, who still hates the woman with everything in her. Her new "parent" turned out to be a member of the Thieves' Guild and began training her in the art of stealth.


While running around the city enjoying her freedom, she ran into another Khajiit girl called Saorat. Saorat had never seen Khajiit other than her parents and was so startled that she turned tail and ran. Dubha pursued her, intent on making a new friend, until she caught up and tackled her to the ground. The two fought tooth and nail, Dubha for the fun of it and Saorat in terror, until they tumbled over into the river below. Dubha had been playing in the water for as long as she could remember and made her way to the walkway in a thrice, but Saorat couldn't swim and was quickly sinking. Dubha jumped back in and pulled her to safety, whereupon Saorat hared her way back home. But when the two met later in the marketplace, Dubha offered to teach her to swim and she reluctantly agreed. The two soon became fast friends.


Dubha was in many ways the opposite of her friend. Where Saorat was reserved and cautious, Dubha was exuberant and full of life. She was always creating "adventures" for the two cubs to run off on, whether chasing fish in the river or "borrowing" a horse for a midnight joy-ride. Dubha was always the one who came up with these escapades and was the one who got them out when things didn't go as planned. She was a master at hiding in the shadows, navigating in silence, and talking her way through anything. When she and Saorat were old enough, Dubha led them through the Ratway to the Ragged Flagon so they could officially join her family together.


The two worked together on every job, Dubha usually doing the lifting while Saorat kept watch, and she loved every moment of it. But when Saorat left Riften and the Guild, she was devastated by the betrayal. One wouldn't know it to see her, for she laughed louder, boasted bigger, and worked harder than she ever had before, eventually earning a bit of a name for herself among her peers. But she was still deeply hurt and looked to even more challenging and risky jobs to distract her mind.


Beliefs: Dubha doesn't really think much about the War, other than how it affects her and the Guild directly, and mostly considers it a conflict of men. She doesn't care much for either side, but especially dislikes the rhetoric of some of the Nords she has heard in the inns. However, this dislike is not strong enough to prevent her from taking a job from either side, though she wouldn't seek them out.


While she does have a sense of right and wrong, it is fairly limited. For the most part, 'right' is whatever is good for her or the Guild, doesn't hurt the innocent (those who she considers mistreated or helpless), and gets out of trouble. She is on good terms with all of the beggars in Riften and regularly exchanges work, food, or coin for their information and secret hiding places. She will not take any job that will harm them.


Regarding her former friend, Dubha considers her to be a traitor in abandoning her in Riften and terribly ungrateful for rejecting the opportunity for advancement the Guild offered them. She doesn't know that Saorat has joined the rebels or is even back in Skyrim, but if she did, she would be even more appalled that she has sided with the Nords who gave them such trouble.


Ruadh ~ Male ~ Nord
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Faction: Stormcloak Noble


Appearance:


Strengths:


Weaknesses:


Personality:


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(Fantasy characters)


Aldair Wave-Rider

(I use him for my Kingdom of Cunara, though he could be adapted for another fantasy roleplay.)


Basic Info



Name and Titles: Aldair Wave-Rider, High Protector of Clan Glasmuin, Chieftain of Cunara


Gender: Male


Species: Kelpie


Age: 55 years


Appearance: Natural Form: Grey-green pelt and mane, grey feathers on front legs, black horns, black eyes, multiple scars, black scales on tail, dark green fins - Land-form: Old and weathered man, lanky grey hair and beard, grey eyes or strong dark-grey stallion, black mane and tail, brown eyes


Strengths: Wise, dignified, much experience leading, courageous, well-respected


Weaknesses: Ill-tempered, opinionated, extremely stubborn, waning strength, quite proud


Sire: Rocar Red-Cloud (deceased, fallen in battle) ~ Dam: Gryda Pearl-Fin (deceased, natural causes)


IC Narration



No, your eyes deceive you not, I am truly Aldair of Glasmuin, sitting now on the Coral Throne as my clan has not for many years. It is strange that it has been so long, for of all the great clans, none surpass Glasmuin in strength, honor, and courage, and truly, what else is there? Perhaps it must be admitted that some have their wealth, and others their prestige, but we have the truest virtue of all and are born to lead. But, I digress, for it is obvious the glories of my House without my saying.


I have lived for over half a century now and have led for nearly half that, but do not think I am past my prime. I remain as strong and able as ever, and challenge any who thinks otherwise. Know you that these scars upon my body are not marks of happenstance, but tales of battles fought and won long before you born, young colt. My pelt and mane have faded since my youth, but my eyes and mind have not dulled in the slightest and my limbs remain just as strong. My land-form is less impressive than my natural form, but I maintain my dignity. I bear the Crown of Wisdom, the grey mane bestowed only upon those of years and knowledge, and have regal grey robes to wear. The strength of my youth does not transfer into this form, and I am frailer than I ought to be, but my beast form remains powerful.


You ask of my name, and well you might, for all kelpies are given a surname in recognition of their deeds, and so each bears a story worth telling and worth hearing. Before I became Chieftain, I was first High Protector, and before that, a warrior of Glasmuin. Many young colts aspire to be chosen to guard the salty lakes of our northern lands, though not all are able to endure the ordeals set forth for them to prove their mettle. But I and my guard-brothers succeeded in our tasks and joined the ranks of our fathers and grand-fathers before us. This was a serious duty, one we undertook immediately, and were assigned to guard the mouth of the cavern leading from our lake to the great sea beyond. The moon was full and all was silent, save for the sounds of the tide. But, as clouds darkened the sky, a great beast charged through the teeth framing the gaping mouth, past the guarders, and toward our homes.


It was like a mother of serpents, straight from the deepest of depths, with terrible great fins, rows of teeth as large as our heads mounted on an endless neck, and a tail to match. Its eyes were full of malice, without pity or mercy, perhaps even without life. It was a grand and worthy monster, the like of which has not been told, save in the legendary tales.


Faced with such an opponent, perhaps some raw recruits would turn tail and flee, dishonoring themselves and their kin, but the guard-brothers of Glasmuin are made of sterner stuff than such weak-hearted hirelings. With the ancient battle-cry of our House, we attacked the beast, riding along in its wake as it plowed through the dark waves. It lashed its serpent's head about, flinging our brave warriors against the rocks, and slashed with its gleaming teeth, clouding the waters and staining the sands with noble blxxd. Many strong warriors joined their ancestors on that night, but the beast was driven away from our lake and has not returned. Those who lived to see the morn were summoned before our Chief, the storied Thyron Shattered-Spear, and honored for their bravery. Because we pursued the beast in the very currents of its attacks, though they pulled us into its jaws, we were called Wave-Rider, so that all may hear and know of the great battle.


Years passed, and then the time came for Thyron to join the everlasting feasting in the Storied Halls. We celebrated his life in the manner befitting a warrior of his fame, with feasting and song for as many days as years of his life. On the final day, as the sun rose, the clan gathered together to choose from our own who was most fit to lead us. Many warriors approached the Elders to make their case to lead, including many Wave-Riders, and they retired into the caverns to discuss their decision. There was much discussion among our kinsman as they eagerly debated and wagered on the outcome of the Elders' wisdom. However, among the warriors, neither a word was spoken nor did a morsel of food or drink pass our lips, for such would bring terrible bad luck and great dishonor on the offender and all his kin.


Hours came and went as the Elders talked among themselves, but finally they emerged from the gloom and the attention of every each-uisge was upon them. They approached in an unbroken line, but as they neared, they stopped in unison, save for the Eldest. Swimming forward from the center of the line, she surveyed the formerly boisterous crowd, which had fallen as silent as the night. The Eldest held great renown as the wisest of all, so that none would dare question her word. She spoke the name of their chosen warrior, but her ancient voice was feeble and wavering, and even her foals in their honored place at her flanks could hardly hear the name. But they did hear, and it flew from tongue to tongue like the winds of a gale. It swept toward the warriors in a great wave, crashing upon us with the magnitude of its news as it had for generations past and as it will for those to come. The name that reached our ears and was raised to the sky that day was my own, and we completed Thyron's honor by feasting to his leadership and the beginning of the next.


Relationships



KIN AND GUARD-BROTHERS


Character- Narration


Character- Narration


Friends and Family ties are open!


BEGONE FROM ME


Character- Narration


Character- Narration


Enemies are open!





Kulean

(Same as Al. Very much WIP.)


Basic Info


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Name: Kulean


Gender: Male


Species: Selkie


Age: Young adult (comparatively)


Appearance: Natural Form: Medium sized harbor seal, white markings on fins, brown eyes - Land-form: Short and stocky, messy red-brown curls, wide brown eyes, cheeky grin


Personality: Curious, Sympathetic, Bright ~ Playful, Energetic, Soft-spoken ~ Timid, Awkward, Oblivious


Background



Kulean grew up in a small community of selkies just outside Seanchar. His family, like the rest of the community, worked hard to maintain the old customs of their culture and was largely isolated even from the rest of their province of Ronan, much less from the rest of Cunara. While selkies occasionally traveled to Seanchar, going beyond that was nearly unheard of, and most inhabitants of the community were born, lived, and died within its borders. Kulean was happy in this life, but showed such a talent for poetry and song that his family encouraged him to attend university in Iasgair.


The city wasn't very far from home, only about a day's journey from Seanchar, and was much smaller than the other province capitals, but it still was more than Kulean had ever seen. It was a frightening and overwhelming experience, but strangely exciting as well. He enjoyed his studies and improving his art, but he still felt isolated and homesick. After returning home a few times, his family decided that the only way he would break away would be if he was forced. So when he came back, they told him that before he could return home again, he would have to see the world beyond Seanchar or Iasgair.


Relationships






Ealasaid Dorclan

Basic Info



Name: Ealasaid Dorclan


Gender: Female


Species: Wood Elf


Age: 25


Appearance: Slight build, dark red-brown hair, green eyes, fond of jewelry


Strengths: Compassionate, talented healer, able musician, cool-headed


Weaknesses: Timid, poor fighter, uncomfortable with strangers that aren't patients, over-sensitive


Abilities: Calming Song - relaxes other beings and makes them less aggressive, works on both man and beast Green Thumb- allows her to cultivate and use plants to their fullest potential, unless the plant is entirely unfamiliar Beastmaster - establishes a connection with beasts, causing them to be friendly and cooperative, less powerful against strong and/or intelligent beasts but can be used with Calming Song


Residence/Kingdom: Born in the Frith Forest, now travels throughout the kingdoms but mostly stays in elven lands


Background/Personality



Ealasaid was born in one of the towns scattered through Frith Forest and lived happily for most of her life, but an attack destroyed the town and caused its inhabitants to scatter and seek refuge elsewhere. In the chaos, Ealasaid and her father ended up being sent to one city while her mother and sibling ended up in another. She was already known for her talent for tending to and working with living things, so she immediately began trying to help the injured in their own city, then traveled to where the rest of her family was staying and did the same, and eventually worked around through several cities. After a while, their town was rebuilt and the refugees were able to return home. But by then, she had discovered a love for helping people and seeing the land.


She now travels between the towns and cities of Keldron and beyond, tending to the sick and wounded. She is very good at this, and her natural talent is enhanced by her magical abilities. The one she uses most often is Calming Song, which can be used with an instrument or with the voice alone, though it works better if both are used. This ability has a dual purpose - to relax and soothe patients in distress, helping them to sleep or relieve pain, and to calm aggressive attackers. It lasts for between 30 and 60 minutes, depending on the strength and resistance of the other, before it has to be used again. Typically, aggressors have greater resistance than patients and recover more quickly, but most of the time either they or Ealasaid have left the area before it wears off. When dealing with animals, it can also be used with Beastmaster to great effect, calming the creature and then causing it to become friendly and cooperative. It eventually wears off as well, again depending on the strength and resistance of the creature.


Ealasaid leads what might could be called a semi-nomadic lifestyle, as she has no permanent residence but often will stay in a particular place for a good length of time. She mostly travels between the towns and villages of the kingdom of Keldron, especially in her home of the Frith Forest, though she does occasionally travel beyond elven territory. Once in a settlement, she sets up a camp nearby, rents a room, or stays with local families who consider it good luck to house a guest and spends a length of time tending to the sick and injured, selling salves, herbs, trinkets and the like, and sharing story and song. If there is work needing to be done, she will also often take it up to earn a little bit extra. This is how she earns her living and is able to buy the supplies needed to sustain her during travel, though she also lives off the land during these times. It is not always a comfortable life, but it is able to sustain her.


As one would expect from a healer, Ealasaid is a very patient and compassionate individual both to man and beast. She doesn't discriminate between species, especially if they are in need, and has even been known to doctor injured animals. However, natural introversion and much time travelling alone has made her somewhat uncomfortable with other people that aren't sick. It is not debilitating, mostly just uncomfortable, but it can prove to be rather awkward at times and leads her to nearly always choose flight over fight. Most of the time, her travels are pretty uneventful as she goes out of her way to avoid upsetting the local wildlife and healers have a sort of unspoken protection from travelers, but in the event of an aggressive encounter she can typically use her abilities to escape without harm. Occasionally, if she encounters a foe that is resistant to them or has abilities of their own, she carries a weapon to defend herself, but she is a very poor fighter. If at all possible, she will run away and hide, and has learned many of the good places to flee to.


Relationships



FRIENDS


Character- Narration


Character- Narration


Friends and Family ties are open!


ENEMIES


Character- Narration


Character- Narration


Enemies are open!





Spiorad

(WIP/Needs developing)


Basic Info



Name: Spiorad


Gender: Male


Species: Dragon


Age:


Appearance: Stands about 6-7 feet tall at the shoulder, covered with tiny dark grey scales, smooth like a snake, has a tuft of black fur at the end of tail, blue eyes


Personality: Cold, distrustful, callous ~ mischievous, solitary, sarcastic ~ loyal, observant, brave


IC Narration



(References to his rider can go either way, depending on your character.)


I am called by many names; Traitor, Lunatic, Murderer... But you may call me Spiorad. It is the name given to me by my rider, and it is the one I shall bear to my last breath. Perhaps even beyond, if fate decrees. My rider? S/he are my king/queen. S/he is the one who took me in, gave me care and hope when I had none. S/he found just a small hatchling, alone and afraid, but s/he loved it. Today, that hatchling has grown into a mighty beast, and it loves him/her. So don't you dare come against them...


Many would call me cruel. Others would call me crazy. Still others call me troubled. Perhaps I am all of these things. Or perhaps I am none of them. I say that I am dedicated, but there is little reason to, as the only one who hears already knows. I am a very solitary being, even as dragons go, and travel only with my rider. This is not to say that I am shy, but there is no need for small talk, is there? Conversation implies trust. Trust that isn't necessarily there. It is better to place your trust in only those who are very close to you, and not always them. The only reason I'm even speaking to you now is because, somehow, my rider wishes it, and you're much too tiny to be any sort of threat anyway, even assuming you left here alive.


Maybe it isn't good to be so suspicious, but isn't it better to err on the side of caution? And don't go on about how not every being will turn on you because I know better. I don't know a single man or beast who wouldn't betray another if it were to protect themselves or somebody they care for. Not even me. This means that if the situation arises where I believe that something needs to be done, I have no qualms about doing it, no matter who gets hurt along the way. Now, all this is not to say that I am not loyal, I'm just not loyal to everyone. If you are lucky, or perhaps crazy, enough to become close to met, you can be assured that I will be true to you. Nobody will hurt you without facing my wrath, no matter the odds. But that wrath is all the worse if you betray me. Never forget that, because I won't.


I tell you that I have no family, but that is only half-true. I have family no longer. Any inhabitant of these mountains can tell you how the dragons nest in the caves and rocks in the summertime, guarded by a ferocious mother, and are not safe to approach until a few winters have come and passed. Travelers through the mountains caravan in long lines for protection, trembling whether for cold or fear, offering lamed or deceased livestock behind in exchange for safe passage. This is how it should be. We are the hunters, they are the prey. But one dwarven warrior declared that he was too mighty to follow nature's laws and he scaled the mountain to slay the mightiest predator of all. Imagine the tiny morsel creeping toward his dexth! But the coward would not face his foe as a warrior ought, but slipped upon her as she lie sleeping after searching far and wide for sustenance for her little ones, growing larger and hungrier by the day. He knew the secret death-place, and without a fight, he k!lled my mother. Oh, what glory he must have won among his brethren, but no glory will be worth the destruction I will wreck upon them.


My sibling and I woke to find the life-feeding head gone, stolen by the treacherous dwarf, leaving only his fallen weapon to tell the story. When hunger finally forced us from our cave, we traveled through the Sealgairs trying to survive. We had never had to fend for ourselves before, we didn't even have full use of our wings yet, and we struggled. Then, my rider found us, fed us, gave us shelter. Finally, we were happy, as we had not been since we saw our mother. We ran and played and enjoyed life, and we were grateful. At least, I was. When our strength had returned and we were fit to fend for ourselves, my rider brought us to the mountains to set us free. My sibling flew away into the distance without a word, but I could not abandon my master/mistress. I hear their voice sometimes, but I do not listen to ingrates.


OOC Notes



Okay, so I tried to figure out how to address this stuff in character, but I couldn't work it out. So, I'm going to cheat and explain stuff here. This is probably going to be where stuff discovered in character will go since it could be a bit tricky to incorporate into his narration. I may also put concept notes here and whatnot, I dunno...


***So you know that bit about hearing his sibling's voice? He's not lying, but that isn't actually the truth. For some reason or other, whenever he hears his conscience speaking to him, his mistakenly identifies it as his sibling's voice and so completely ignores it. He legitimately has no concept of a conscience and believes his explanation of it being his sibling speaking in his mind. For this reason, he can sometimes be heard arguing with it audibly or telepathically.***


***Another thing you may have noticed is his devotion to his rider, right after being swept away by his charm (yeah right). Well, you wouldn't know it to look or listen to him, but when he's with his master, he can be extremely affectionate and playful, like a massive, deadly puppy. He dotes on his rider and loves them unconditionally, even ridiculously so sometimes. However, no other being has ever seen him behave in this way and lived to tell about it before.***


***He is only a young dragon, and so is rather inexperienced in dealing with others and certain situation. He isn't stupid, far from it, but sometimes doesn't make the best decisions. His curiosity doesn't help keep him from that, either. He is good about noticing details, though.***


Relationships



RARE AND RADIANT


Character - Narration


Friends and Family ties are open!


DIRGES OF HOPE


Character- Narration


Enemies are open!


 
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(Vaguely historical-ish chars.)


Alastair Suilglas

(Pirate dude. He can be adapted a bit if necessary. He was designed for a historical based pirate roleplay, but doesn't have to be real-world. He's also a pretty old character, so he could probably use some tweaking.)


Basic Info



ScreenShot2012-11-06at65851PM.png


Art by x_grays at Neo
​



Name: Alastair Douglas Suilglas II


Age: 47


Occupation: Doctor aboard various pirate ships


Appearance: Short, stocky, green-grey eyes, curly once-red hair, scarred face and arms


Personality: Gruff, short-tempered, cynical, stubborn, proud, loyal, intelligent, caring, gentle, honest


Family: Son of Alastair Suilglas I and Catherine Mullach, has two younger siblings, Mairi (a year younger) and Ronald (five years younger).


Appearance



Alastair is quite a bit shorter than most men, standing at just under 5'6, but he is thick limbed and stocky.


He has green-grey eyes set under glowering, bushy brows in a blocky, scarred face. They have the remarkable ability to show every emotion from gentle humor to terrible anger to caring concern, and all in the span of a few minutes. They are incredibly expressive and often give him away when he tries to keep a stoic expression.


He is no longer a young man, by any means, and his face shows the wear of 25 years of rough weather, struggling to save his comrades, and even a few cases of bearing arms himself. His hair, once brilliantly red, is now streaked with grey and and faded to something akin to rust. The same goes for his curly beard, which he keeps neatly trimmed.


Though not very tall, he is built like an ox and can withstand much abuse and wields tremendous strength. This makes him a bit clumsy most of the time, but it disappears when he is called to do his jobs. Watching him work, few would believe that such thick, scarred hands could do such delicate work. But, they can, and they do.


He wears a once white canvas shirt most of the time, rolled up past the elbows, and black trousers. But, when the ship docks and he has a chance to visit the towns and ports, he dons a blue jacket with brass buttons and coattails, a clean white shirt, navy blue trousers, and fine, black boots. The entire getup remains in excellent condition, as he rarely has a chance to wear it. However, it has been let out a few times, since he continues to gain weight since he first bought it.


As a doctor, Alastair prefers to save lives rather than end them, but when backed into a corner, he often goes for his stubby black pistol, or, if he can't reach it, the old dirk strapped to his waist.


Personality



Alastair has spent 25 years on the sea, so he is considerably rougher than he once was. But, there is still a fragment of gentle kindness buried inside, though it is rare that he allows it to show. He especially loves children and admires their honesty and curiosity. Sometimes, he wonders if he would have made a good father, if ever given the chance. His size and booming laugh sometimes frightens children, but his stories and generosity always win them over in the end. Therefore, it shouldn't be surprising that nothing angers him more than somebody mistreating a child. If he witnesses such a thing, he will fly into a fury, and his opponent probably won't live to make the mistake again.


However, he certainly isn't the easiest man to relate to. He has a sharp wit and sharper tongue. Often, he seems sullen and ill-tempered, unwilling to speak except in grunts and mumbles. Other times, he is cynical and bitter, snapping at everyone and everything, trying to find an outlet for his anger and frustration. He very rarely has much patience and simply cannot abide stupidity. Ignorance is one thing, it can be fixed, but he has no use whatsoever for fools. Fools that, unfortunately, often seem to be in command of his ship...


So, he often has problems with authority. This isn't to say that he isn't loyal, quite the opposite. But, this loyalty is earned, not given. Ever. He does have a certain respect for his superiors, but only for the position, not the individual. Therefore, he will give the deference deserved of the position and no more. However, if someone or something does earn his respect, they have his undying loyalty.


Alastair is an incredibly proud man, hard headed and stubborn. He always has an opinion and rarely hesitates to share it, especially if it is asked for. As a result, he often ends up saying things he regrets, though you should consider yourself lucky if you eke out an apology, since it is a grand honor only bestowed those who have earned his trust and respect. He can also be quite passionate if his hackles are raised. One such thing is his nationalistic pride. Anyone who bruises it is treading on dangerous ground indeed.


Although he has been living on the sea for two and a half decades, he still refuses to part with many of the morals he learned as a child. He is as honest as any you've ever met, and is always true to his word. Furthermore, unlike many other sailors, he doesn't swear and only rarely drinks. This earns him some considerable leg-pulling from his comrades, but he remains undeterred, for he is far too determined to cling to that one element of his old life to let it go.


Background



For many years, Alastair lived a quiet, peaceful life in his home village near Aberdeen. His family worked the land, as they always had, and life went on in the same pattern every day. But it was not to last.


He was taught to read at a very early age, in preparation for him to become a priest, like his father. However, despite his early, boyish enthusiasm for the idea, he began to imagine another future for himself. A wild, adventurous, glorious future like the ones in the books his friend Martin smuggled in to him.


On his thirteenth birthday, his father came in and told him that the arrangements were made for him to attend a school far away to follow in his footsteps. Alistair vehemently refused and he and his father got into a shouting match. When his father pulled the ancient "You're in my house, you'll do as I say!" line, he threw his possessions into a sheet and stormed out of the house. He traveled from town to town, looking for someplace to earn a meal and place to rest, and was so miserable that he almost considered returning home. But he didn't.


One evening, he was sleeping outside of an inn when he heard a commotion inside. He crawled over to the door and peeked in through a narrow crack between the slats. At first, he couldn't see much because of the crowd milling about, screaming and grabbing and rushing. A shadowy figure dashed out of the inn and hared down the road, out of sight. But inside, a man lay on the floor, bleeding from a great wound in his side. Alastair caught his breath in horror and looked away. He'd never seen such a thing and thought that the poor man would surely die. But, with morbid curiosity, the boy forced himself to peek through again and saw that another man was moving through the crowd. He crouched down with his back to Alastair, obscuring his sight. But when he stood up, the boy saw that the injured man was swathed in some sort of material and has stopped bleeding. In fact, he was starting to look around him and even took a few sips of water. He was astounded, and immediately set out to find the stranger.


He found him the next morning and excitedly told him what he'd seen. He asked him what he'd done, how he did it, if the man would live... He peppered him with a barge of questions only a young mind can dream up and the man answered them as best he could between chuckles. When the boy paused to take a breath, the stranger stopped him. "Hold it there, lad. Don't want you passing out here in the street. Now, you show a remarkable interest in healing others, how would you like to help me tend to the man you saw last night, huh? It will be a while yet before he is up on his feet, and I could use a pair of eager young hands to help me. What do you say?" After gaping at him for a few moments, Alastair lit up with a huge grin and squeaked out "Of course I will!".


The boy learned basic medicine from the doctor for several years, then went on to learn more. By the time he was twenty years old, he was bursting with knowledge and eager to use it. He set out to find a place to work, with very little luck. The only place he could find to work was aboard an old merchant ship, but he took it with glee.


A little over a year after he first signed aboard the merchant ship Lyricin, they were attacked by pirates. The cargo was stolen and the crew were taken prisoner, leaving Alastair wondering if becoming a priest was really as terrible as he thought. A privateer ship attacked them, and though they emerged victorious, one of the pirates was badly injured in the attack. His howls carried throughout the ship and Alastair, leaning against the hull in captivity, listened with curiosity.


"By the powers, that's a great wound. I'd wager he won't last the night. What do ya say, Jack?"


"Aye... I say we send him over. He'll be better off anyway..."


"No! No, stop it mates! I'll live, I swear I will! Don't send me over, I beg of yer!"


Alastair sprang up, somewhat awkwardly because of the manacles around his ankles and scrambled over to the door. "Stop! Stop! Let me out this moment! If you throw that man over, I swear I'll tear you apart myself!" He continued to rant and pound at the door. When the door opened, he nearly fell through in his haste, much to the amusement of the guard. He caught himself and began to hurry toward the two pirates and the shouting man hanging between them, but fell flat when his chains reached their limit. Struggling up, he glared at the guffawing guard and cried "Let me go! I can save his life, let me out of these chains." The guard stared down at him and directed a kick toward his ribs. "Oh, aye? Ya think you can save his miserable wretches life, eh? Well tell yer what, I'm in a generous mood today, so I'll make you a little deal. You say you can save him, and I wager you can't. Try as you might to save him, but if he dies, you go down with him."


Alastair ground his teeth with disdain and gritted out "And if I do save him...


The guard grabbed his shirt and easily hoisted the young man to his feet. Leaning forward, he bared his teeth in a foul grimace and replied "Then, you get the grand prize of... your miserable life.". He shoved him back to the deck and Alastair stood back up, wincing at the pain in his side. He set his jaw and glared up into the pirate's eyes. "Then I accept your challenge."


Alastair did save the man, much to the surprise of the guard and the gratification of the injured man. However, this act of mercy had consequences the young man didn't foresee. The ship didn't have a doctor, since the previous one had too much to drink and fell off the gangplank into the turbulent water and drowned. Alastair was ordered to remain on-board and treat the injured crew members. He refused, but when they leveled a great pistol at his temple, the young man had little choice. Grudgingly, he accepted. He spent the next six months trying hard to escape, but one fateful battle ended any chance he'd ever get.


The ship was attacked by the same privateer ship that first fought them, presumably back for revenge. Alastair stood out of the way, hoping that the enemy would prevail and he could return to land and honest work. But when Marcus, one of the crew and a close friend, was cornered by three privateers nearby, he couldn't stand by any longer. With a wild cry, he lept into the fray and swept away the two men nearest him. The third turned to face him and Alastair gasped in surprise. The privateer smiled and as he pulled back the hammer whispered "Hello, brother..."


The ship managed to escape, but not without terrible losses. Both the captain and the first mate were fatally injured, and the ship was damaged beyond repair. The entire crew, including Alastair, had to search out new posts. He entered town, determined to set his life straight, but he stopped dead before he set foot inside the limits. For stuck against the side of one of the houses, there was a drawing of his face with the words


ALASTAIR SUILGLAS: PIRATE


Gave aid to a confirmed pirate, attacked a privateer, fled capture


REWARD FOR CAPTURE


Despite his attempts to make excuses, he knew that the only man on the enemy ship still alive knew his name and could depict him so accurately. The only one of the privateers that saw him, Ronald. Stunned by the betrayal, Alastair fled under cover of night and joined up with the first ship he found. Despite all his attempts to make an honest living, the young man was in too deep now. There was nothing more he could do. He knew that the rest of his life would be aboard a pirate ship and fleeing from the law.


And so it was that the son of a priest landed aboard a pirate ship, wanted for, among other things, the death of a privateer by the name of Ronald Suilglas. If captured, he will surely swing.


Fate is an ironic thing.


 
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Doctor Who


William Grey

Basic Info



Full Name


William Grey


Age


Literally centuries, though he appears to be between 25 and 30


Species


Time Lord (though good luck telling him that)


Gender


Male


Appearance


Medium height, lanky, messy red-brown hair, freckles, brown eyes


Current Residence


Glasgow


Personality



Strengths


Highly intelligent


Likable


Easygoing


Great historical and technological knowledge (obviously)


Observant


Weaknesses


Scatterbrained


Easily confused (about social norms and such, he forgets that they've changed)


Stubborn


Over-excitable


Impatient


Likes


Meeting new people


Music (he's very sentimental)


Being outdoors


Dislikes


War


Being wrong


Arrogant people


Background



Centuries ago, a Time Lord was exploring a distant solar system when a tendency to improvise solutions rather than actually getting them fixed backfired and sent his TARDIS spiraling towards the planet. It crashed into the ground, and as the Time Lord emerged shaken and confused, he found himself surrounded by a group of soldiers. At first, he was excited to meet his first contacts from beyond Gallifrey, and addressed them heartily as "the men of Ix", judging from the banner clutched in their eagle's claws, but they seemed less interested in making friends than he was. They drove him away and began investigating the strange blue object, even climbing inside with shouts of wonder as the entire legion of them filed into the tiny ship. Suddenly, there was a flash of light and the TARDIS disappeared without a trace, along with the men inside.


This Time Lord found himself trapped on a foreign planet with no way to get home or even anyone looking for him (his expedition had been more of a joyride than an actual mission) and he had no idea what to do. Surely, he thought, Eventually they will come after me. Someone will miss me, right?and proposed to just sit tight and wait. In the meantime, he reasoned, he might as well learn what he could about the people here. He wandered around until he found a group of men, though they looked nothing like the men he just saw, and observed them until he felt he could sufficiently mimic their ways. He was unsuccessful, but eventually stopped being regarded as a threat, though he never stopped being an unusual curiosity. Passing the time in this way, he believed, somebody would be by to pick him up in no time. However, nobody ever came.


He stayed on the island for centuries longer, taking the name William Grey in various forms, waiting in vain. After a while, his memories of Gallifrey became more and more distant, and he found he couldn't even remember his own name. Finally, all knowledge of time and space disappeared from his mind, and began to believe his own role as a "normal human". He is happy being "human", but cannot understand why they become frail so quickly and don't remember his face when they change theirs. (That is, if he meets someone who reminds him of someone who has died, he assumes they have regenerated like he does, and doesn't understand why they've forgotten him.)


 
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Sorta nation-building? I made this for a roleplay, but didn't get to use it. I'm keeping it here in storage or if ever decide to do another roleplay with it.


Basic Info



Official Name: Kingdom of Maireann


Common Name: Maireann


Demonym: Mair


Flag/Banner (if any): None officially. However, each clan has two animal symbols, the symbol of the clan and the personal symbol of its chieftain, which appear on banners or shields.


Brocuric - Wolf, badger


Cabhar - Hawk, horse


Cabrach - Stag, hare


Mucmar - Salmon, sea-dragon


Population- 2 million (Sparse, rural communities and small cities)


Map



Map Location: View attachment 259553


History



Brief History - (This is in no way everything that has ever happened, just a quick explanation of how the people ended up where they are today. I will probably imply more history in the roleplay itself.)


The people of Maireann arrived on the continent many generations ago, travelling south and west across the sea to land in what is now Gaillan, the oldest city in the kingdom. They traveled along the coastline fishing for a living until they began to expand into the southern lands. Some remained near the cost, and would become the Mucmar. They would remain the most traditional of their people and most attached to the old ways. Their leader was called Thorgreith, and is the warrior most trace their ancestry to. 'Mucmar' is the name of a sea-dragon in their mythology.


Traveling south, the group (more or less, though they had spread out a lot by this point) settled in the Raoin Plains region, enjoying both the resources of the forest and the wide-open spaces they were accustomed to. They built the great city of Eirich just inside the great forest and thrived for many years under the leadership of their chieftain, Tredor Steelblade. Upon his passing, his son Ahmik and daughter Chianna vied for his position, for he had no siblings and great power. The two children were twins, born beneath the same moon twenty-five years before, and each was famed for different skills. Ahmik was known for his speed and gallantry, while Chianna was known for her tactics and marksmanship. The people were split between the two, each lauding their chosen child's attributes and supporting their claim, but there was no fighting, for the siblings loved and trusted one another.


But during the night, there was a double-assassination. Both Ahmik's and Chianna's closest advisers were killed, each apparently mistaken for their leader, and rumors began to fly that each child had conspired against the other. While they knew that their sibling had not made an attempt on their life, they didn't know who was behind it and agreed to flee the city for their own safety until the true killer could be found. Unfortunately, the killer found them first and completed his earlier goal, incriminating each one with the death of the other. With nobody alive that knew the truth, the loyal followers of the two reacted with anger against one another and strove to drive the other from the city. Eventually, the followers of Chianna left to seek shelter in the Faolchu Forest, while those loyal to Ahmik traveled east to the Plains. From these groups came the Brocruic and Cabhar.


The Mair had always believed in the traditional deities they called the Great Kings, Jycton, Lujin, and Imjir. They were the guardians of their ancestors for generations and had never abandoned them, and the Mair were faithful followers. However, there were some in Brocruic who began to speak new names, those of Queens called Uelia and Roenta. The Queens were widely accepted in Brocruic and lavished their bounty upon them, but were met with hostility when her followers traveled to the other Clans with their names on their lips. A group of them managed to establish a sanctuary in Cabhar, but were driven out. When this happened, the Chieftain of Clan Brocruic, still politically weak and fearful of the other clans' ire, aligned himself with the other chieftains and banished all followers of the Queens from Maireann lands.


They settled in what is now Arnact, under the leadership of Amriel the Good. They existed as a small city-state of their own for many years until hostility from the northern clans threatened to drive them farther south. However, to the surprise of their more powerful neighbors, they found considerable success. They were eventually defeated and pushed into the Munadh Moor, but when they asked to be promised protection from further persecution, the other clans decided to play it safe and avoid angering whatever it was that protected the small group and agreed. Eventually, as hostility to the religion would fade, the city-state would be admitted into the kingdom as Clan Cabrach, from a name meaning 'the hunted'.


Government



Government: Feudal Clans - There are four major clans - Brocruic, Cabhar, Cabrach, and Mucmar. Each clan is largely independent and exists under the control of a powerful chieftain. This chieftain is chosen from the siblings and children of the former one according to his/her esteem, wisdom, and courage. Both men and women may take the position, though a son or brother is the most common choice. His subjects obey his laws, offer tribute, and provide military service in exchange for protection from invaders, law enforcement, and refuge in the major cities in wartime. He is obligated to maintain the well-being of those under him and may have advisers or minor officials in the cities, but his word is law. The chieftains meet twice a year to discuss trade, alliances, and other business. The two most powerful clans, Brocruic and Cabhar, each have a sort of vassal of their own in the other two, Mucmar and Cabrach, respectively. They are not expressly bound to the larger clan, but they are closely allied and often cooperate with them in exchange for protection. Traditionally, the chieftain of each clan will send one of their of their children to be raised in the other clan until they reach majority and vice versa. This, along with marriage agreements, tends to keep at least some measure of peace between the clans. When faced with an outside issue, the two strongest chieftains speak for the entire 'kingdom'.


Religion/Culture



Culture/Religion -


The people of Maireann believe in deities they call the Great Kings - Jycton, King of the Sky, Lujun, King of the Sea, and Imjir, King of Fire. Each has many servants, called the Brid, who have jurisdiction over minor elements of the Kings' rule and are more likely to participate directly in everyday life. The Muir believe that each individual is born under the protection of a particular King or Brid, who they remain devoted to. Occasionally the signs will indicate that a child is born under all or none of the three, and is believed to be destined for greatness or disgrace.


There are some who also believe in deities they call the Great Queens - Uelia, Queen of the Trees, and Roenta, Queen of the Beasts. There are varying opinions on their status. Some believe they are equal with the Kings, perhaps their sisters or wives, others consider them very powerful Brid, some claim they are unrelated at all, and still others believe them to be Luseir, she-demons. The belief has its origins in Clan Brocruic and spread east into Cabhar, where it was relentlessly persecuted and driven into what is now Cabrach.


Miltary



Military - Every able-bodied man between the ages of 15 and 55 is required to report twice a year to the nearest town or village to be registered and receive military training from travelling officers whose job is to make sure that the militia is adequately trained and provisioned. The training is brief, but intense, and focuses mainly on the use of the schiltron or lines of archers. If a man is the sole provider for his family or the last of his line, he may be granted an exemption. Otherwise, though, every man is expected to report to their commanding officer if he appears with a call to arms. They are usually used as a supplement to the better-armed, well-trained army.


Formal military exists mainly in the capitals and large cities, where they are engaged in training and law enforcement year-round, with staggered leaves of one month for every four serving. They are well-equipped and disciplined, though their numbers are relatively few. Most soldiers fight with a blade or a musket, though the more wealthy may own warhorses or artillery. Chainmail is the most common form of armor, but some high-ranking soldiers have platemail.


 
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